


Mathematical Precision

by ZiGraves



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Dom/sub Undertones, M/M, Prostate Massage, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-02
Updated: 2013-12-02
Packaged: 2018-01-03 06:36:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1067237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZiGraves/pseuds/ZiGraves
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carlos has acquired a beautifully engineered new toy. Cecil has an as-yet unindulged labcoat kink.<br/>Contains Smut, multiple orgasm, toy-use, vague-but-human Cecil.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mathematical Precision

“Cecil?”

“Mm?” Cecil had been stretched beguilingly on Carlos’ sofa for an hour or more, and had been starting to doubt that he was quite so beguiling as he hoped. He had, in fact, been considering taking a nap if Carlos spent any more time looking at his laptop instead of at his boyfriend. He made up for it by rolling his spine in a long, lascivious stretch and purring his response. “Yes, my delicious Carlos?”

Carlos flushed and stared back down at his laptop, which was not the desired effect. Cecil tried not to pout, rolling over to flop on his back and wait for a response.

“I was… wondering. You said you, you liked the idea of, um, scientific experiments? In the bedroom?”

Carlos’ voice, sweet and caramel and vanilla-oaked, ran a little higher and sweeter than usual with the enquiry. Cecil’s metaphorical and literal ears pricked up at the sound. He propped himself up on his elbows and attempted to resume a suitably beguiling sort of a pose.

“I do believe I’ve expressed an interest of that nature, my delight, yes.”

Particularly, he had expressed the interest. Explicity. Repeatedly. On one memorable occasion, with diagrams involving Carlos in a lab coat and not much else, until eventually Carlos had vetoed the whole thing entirely with some excuse about not wanting to mix work and romance. Not that Cecil was going to bring that up. Not if experimentation was back on the cards.

“I… I did think of one thing. That I might like to try. With you. If you’d like.”

“I would like.” Cecil slid off the sofa to drape himself over Carlos’ shoulders, not quickly enough to catch whatever Carlos had been examining on the laptop. He hummed and nuzzled gently at the back of Carlos’ neck, into the soft, thick hair at the edge of his scalp and the sensitive point behind his ear. Carlos smelled wonderful, of shampoo and cologne and sweat and ozone and dust. “I would definitely, definitely like. What were you thinking of?”

“I thought… maybe… I got a toy for us. Hands-free, an insertable thing. I’d like to see how many times I can make you come.” Carlos spoke softly, so much so that Cecil could not feel his voice no matter how cleverly he tried to apply his lips to Carlos’ neck. “I’d like to just lay you out on the bed, get you ready… and watch. Sorry if that’s a bit… you know, weird.”

Cecil shook his head, twining further around Carlos’ shoulders until he could kiss the blush rising on his lovely dark cheeks.

“No, no. Not at all. Oh, you want to watch me. You want me all spread out for you, just for you, you want to see every little bit of me when I come for you… oh, Carlos,” he breathed, voice low and hungry with anticipation. “That’s filthy. I love it. Will you wear your coat for me, too?”

“I, uh - yes. If you like.” Carlos nodded, brief and sharp, and still looking directly ahead of him at the closed laptop. Cecil was not sure what sort of thing could possibly have provoked this degree of thoroughly adorable bashfulness, but he rather hoped Carlos would get over it soon. It would be difficult for Carlos to watch him writhing in the throes of passion if Carlos was staring at his own feet instead. He decided to take a gentler approach, prying the laptop from his hands and depositing himself in Carlos’ lap.

“Lovely Carlos, what is it?”

Carlos shrugged, unable to avoid eye contact.

“I’ve never done kinky stuff before,” he admitted. “Costumes or watching someone get off for me. I- I mean, I’ve wanted to! But it’s not exactly all that common or popular an idea. It’s all pretty new.”

“Well, then.” Cecil smiled, and leaned up to kiss him on the nose. “I will be very honoured that I’m the one you get to try it all out with.”

Carlos smiled back, hesitant for only a moment, and wrapped his arms around Cecil.

“Yeah. I’m… looking forward to it. Thanks, sweetheart.”

“So.” Cecil grinned. “When do I get to see you in your coat?”

He loved the way Carlos’ eyes widened, just a bit, and the way his throat bobbed before he could answer.

\----

“Mm. Now, then. What do I do for you, lovely Carlos? How do you want me?”

Cecil had draped himself over Carlos’ shoulders again, and Carlos took his hands, kissed the knuckles on both, and slid out from under Cecil’s grasp. He had a clipboard. With neatly printed instructions that he kept moving away from Cecil’s line of sight.

“Undress for me, first. Put your things away so you don’t get your pants caught on your ankles or something like that. I want absolutely no distractions for you.” The uncertainty in his voice was mostly gone, securely buried under layers of careful thought and planning. Cecil could almost see all the consideration Carlos had put into the evening, from his labcoat and nice shoes to the small, beautiful, glossy box that he thought Cecil didn’t know about and which Cecil had been good enough not to open. He’d laid things out in a line on the dresser, as neat and precise as the list on the clipboard; towel, water, lubricant, gloves.

Cecil smiled with a flutter of eyelashes and stripped slowly, setting everything aside just as nicely as Carlos had. The precision seemed part of the game. He was not sure if sloppiness would come later, but he hoped it might. His smile widened to a grin and he spread his arms in display, standing bare and cocky under Carlos’ calm gaze. He could see the wobble in it, not quite controlled.

“Good. Thank you.” And there, Cecil watched, there was that delicious bob in Carlos’ throat that betrayed him as much as wide-blown pupils or a shivering breath. “Just lie down on your back for me, please. Legs open.”

Carlos snapped thin gloves on as Cecil situated himself in the most flattering position he could find. The pose didn’t last long, coolly gloved hands pressing him down flat against the bed and nudging his knees up a little more, out a little more, open a little more. He closed his eyes and shivered at it, and let Carlos rearrange him. This was not what he’d had in mind when he’d pressed for some sort of experimentation, but it was not bad. Only different, unexpected, and in some way strangely reassuring to be handled with the steady calm Carlos usually reserved for delicate and volatile things.

“There. Are you comfortable?”

Cecil nodded, feeling Carlos’ hands as two points of contact still against his thighs.

“Good. You don’t have to keep your eyes closed, but you can if it helps you.” Carlos’ voice was as smooth and collected as his touch. Cecil realised he really was being treated as an experiment, with the clinical good manners that entailed, and shivered again. It was dispassionate, polite, and a breathtakingly intense focus to be under. He felt a hint of the nerves that Carlos was no longer betraying, breathed slowly and deeply to counter it. The hands left his thighs.

There was the pop of a lubricant cap, but no faint squish of the gel itself being squeezed out. Not yet. Instead he heard a rustle, a snap - the pretty, glossy box with its magnetic clasp - the slight clatter of the clipboard, plastic squeaking against something else and the magnetic snap again, the box closed, its contents out in Carlos’ hands.

“What is it?” he asked.

“A piece of beautiful engineering,” Carlos replied, voice warming with the appreciation of a fellow scientist’s hard work. “Designed with mathematical precision. I’m going to open you up now, and when you’re ready I’ll insert it. It’s not very big, you can look if you want.”

Cecil shook his head. No. No, he was happy not to look, but he wanted a hand on him again, or in him, something to distract from being under nothing at all but Carlos’ calm, attentive focus.

Then Carlos’ hand was on his cheek, and he had to open his eyes and look up. Carlos was smiling down at him, soft and still a bit nervous, and not at all the distant voice of scientific interest.

“Hey… tell me if you want me to stop. Just say. Any time, and I’ll stop and get you cleaned up and we can… we can do whatever you want.”

“I will.” Cecil nodded, closed his eyes as Carlos kissed him, and left them closed. It helped.

He hissed at the cold of the gel on Carlos’ fingers, and got not the slightest hint of apology for it as Carlos worked him open with one hand resting on his thigh and the other two knuckles deep in Cecil’s ass. The hands left him, cold and twitching-empty, to listen for the faint squish of the lubricant again.

“I’m inserting it now. Breathe slowly and deeply. Count your breathing for me. One, two, three, four, in. One, two, three, four, out. Like that. Very good, keep going. There we go.”

Cecil felt something rounded and contoured slide in with a slow, consistent press. It was solid when he clenched against it, perfectly smooth, and slid in the last way entirely of its own accord. Carlos fiddled with it, adjusting it just so until Cecil gasped involuntarily when the press of the toy internally against his prostate and externally against his perineum told him he’d got it positioned perfectly.

There was a rubbery snap of gloves being removed, replaced with a clean pair, and the cool of the fresh latex warmed quickly between Carlos’ palms and Cecil’s thighs as Carlos eased his legs down and straight. It forced the toy further, pressing it more urgently.

“Is that all right so far?” Carlos’ hands hadn’t left Cecil’s thighs. Cecil nodded, and Carlos stroked along one leg with a little affectionate gesture quite incongruous to the scene, and which Cecil was abruptly and absurdly grateful for. “There, now. You just have to lie there for me. Take your time and let yourself get used to it. You can keep your hands by your sides if you want to, or on your body if you prefer, but I would ask that you not touch your penis or the device for as long as the experiment lasts. Take as long as you need. I’ll be right here beside you.”

Cecil breathed, counting the seconds between inhale and exhale, and let himself slip down into something more like relaxation.

He was in Carlos’ hands. He had never pictured it ending up like this, but he was in Carlos’ hands. Carlos was watching over him, taking care of him, monitoring his every reaction with the same diligence - same outfit, same labcoat, same clipboard - that he reserved for the most sensitive of his experiments.

He was aware of things, with his eyes closed and his body still like that. He was aware of Carlos sitting to his left on the chair by the bedside table, warm and infinitely patient, and perhaps nervous about all this, perhaps disguising it very well. He was aware of his fingers and toes, and flexed them, straightening out his limbs and experiencing a jolt when even that slight movement caused the thing in him to shift.

Mathematical precision, Carlos had said. Beautiful engineering. It had been designed to do that.

He clenched around it, testing the weight and movement of it. Gasped.

He was all laid out on the bed, and Carlos was watching for every tiny subtle movement of his body in reaction to the thing inside him. He couldn’t tell how much of his erection was down to Carlos and how much was the toy starting to do new and interesting things to him the more his body responded to its intrusion.

It was pressing, every time he moved, even when he didn’t mean to, even when it was only a spasm that he could not help. It was pressing against him with utterly merciless precision and he wasn’t ready for an orgasm, not yet, but he could feel the need for it building. His hands dug into the blanket at his sides, desperately wanting to stroke himself or adjust the toy or something, something other than this monstrously slow build up.

Cecil whined, low and needy, and his hips thrust up against nothing at all.

“Please-” he gasped. “Please - I - Carlos, please -”

He was not sure what he was asking for as he twitched and quivered with orgasm just out of reach. Carlos’ gloved hand slid into his, lacing between his fingers, and held him tight. Cecil tensed, moaning, and came in a slow dribble that felt longer and stranger than anything he knew with regular sex. He dropped back flat against the mattress, panting, his hand limp in Carlos’.

“That’s one.” He felt Carlos’ lips on his cheek, soft and fleeting and unprofessional. “Can you keep going for me?”

Cecil groaned, but did not say no. The thing was still there, still pressing and moving and exaggerating his twitching, post-orgasmic collapse, threatening to drive him toward coming a second time if he gave it long enough and if he could not force himself to be still.

“I can. I can do it. For you. Oh, Carlos…”

“You’re doing very well. I’m right here.” Perfectly cool, calm, observant, scientific Carlos, sitting fully dressed with his clipboard, watching his naked boyfriend fuck himself on a piece of beautiful engineering, and Cecil could not have said why the thought was so hot but oh, oh, it was, it was rich and intoxicating and his body was shuddering with it.

"That’s two.” Carlos’ lips on the back of his hand, this time. “Will you see if you can get to five for me?”

“I need - I need -”

“What do you need?”

Cecil whined wordlessly in response, bucking for friction that wasn’t there. He wanted a hand on his cock, or a mouth on it, or something, anything. The second orgasm was lingering in his system like it wanted an encore, refusing to let him come down, and he could not stop his legs from twitching and driving the damn toy. He whined, and got Carlos’ hand still in his, thumb stroking over his knuckles. It wasn’t stopping, it was trying to build again, and he whimpered as something overtook him that had nothing to do with his cock.

His body, his whole body was lit up and trembling and gods, it should not have been possible, he was coming again, dry and hard and arching up off the bed with Carlos’ hand his only point of contact left with reality.

“That’s three. Doing so well for me. Keep going for me.”

The tremble had communicated itself across to Carlos’s voice, and Cecil realised through his haze that he did not know where Carlos’ clipboard was, did not know what Carlos’ other hand was doing.

Was Carlos getting off on watching Cecil like that? Was he touching himself the way he wouldn’t touch Cecil, the way he’d told Cecil not to?

Cecil’s skin was electric. He let his free hand move at last, brushing it up along his hip, his belly, his ribs, across his collarbone and down to his nipple, and he felt Carlos’ grip unsteady in his, or his own unsteady in Carlos’, but oh he was made of sparks, it was impossible, he was nothing except a hand in Carlos’ hand and sensation delineating the shape of a man and pleasure, pleasure rolling through him again and he was panting, gulping air that couldn’t get into his blood fast enough. He’d lost the careful count of his breathing some way back, but could not work out where, nor gather enough thought to try.

“That’s four.”

A cool, sweet voice that shivered and needed as much as Cecil did.

Cecil lay boneless on the bed and rolled his eyes open toward Carlos. Sweet Carlos, lovely Carlos, Carlos who’d done this to him without ever having to do a thing himself. Carlos who was hard in his neatly pressed pants, and who had not done a thing about it. Cecil licked his lips, let his mouth drop open.

“Please?” he asked, then swallowed when his voice was cracked and dry from so many pleading moans. “Please, I want…”

“Yes?”

“You. Want you. Please. Let me.” He looked up, and watched the last bit of Carlos’ careful demeanour fall apart under the power of just his broken voice. Carlos scrabbled his fly down and knelt up on the bed, carefully pillowing Cecil’s head in his lap. Cecil sucked at him, greedy, filled twice over and felt the thing, the toy, the experiment press deep and send another shivering wave through him, travelling through him to Carlos’ gorgeous cock in his mouth, and it wasn’t orgasm again, not yet.

It built, slowly, and he felt utterly fucked out of his mind. Wave after gentle, collapsing wave pushed through him without pushing him over, pushed through him and into Carlos, whose hand in his was increasingly forming a tight counterpoint grip to the softness of Cecil.

When he came for the last time he dragged Carlos over with him, unmindful of the splatter of come across his face or the drying tackiness on his stomach when Carlos slid down to pull him close and hold him.

Carlos shrugged his labcoat off and draped it over Cecil, then gently eased the toy out and mopped Cecil up, glad he’d set the towel aside for it. Cecil pushed into his lap and into his arms, seeking animal comfort, and had to be coaxed into drinking water to soothe his abused throat between adoring kisses.

In a little while, the shivers and twitches subsided.

“Was that… all right?” he asked, after another bit longer. Cecil beamed, smug and sleepy, and nodded.

“Next time, beautiful Carlos, I want to do it to you.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this, my username on tumblr and steam is ZiGraves, and I will always welcome conversation.


End file.
